


That Time Me Best Mate Died (Almost)

by Catbunblue302



Series: Whump for Bunnies [9]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Capture, Character Death, Cults, Demo gets a goat, Gen, Happy Ending, One Shot, Restraints, Sort Of, Who doesn't want a free goat amiright?, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27093778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catbunblue302/pseuds/Catbunblue302
Summary: Demo and Soldier go for a nice walk in the forest- and oh hey there's a cult.
Series: Whump for Bunnies [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949197
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	That Time Me Best Mate Died (Almost)

**Author's Note:**

> Contains very wrong information about how The Dead Ringer works.

The woods were peaceful that afternoon, only the birds gently chirping to disturb the qui-

“Race ya!”

“Oh, you are on!”

And then these two dumbasses came along.

Demo had a bit of a headstart when the race was called but Soldier was hot on his heels. As all great men do when seeing a massive hill they’d decided to run up it. Great clouds of loose dirt misted up from under their boots and then, higher up the hill, showers of pebbles. Both parties struggled to keep their balance on the shifting stones but they’d be damned if they were going to admit defeat.

Soldier reached the top first. “This is- oof!”

Demo stumbled into him and the two mercenaries went tumbling down the other side of the hill to land in a tangled mess of limbs.

“Ye okay?” Demo asked.

“Affirmative! Are you?” Soldier had dirt smeared all over his face; his helmet had fallen off during the fall.

“Aye.” Well, mostly. He had a few scrapes on his palms but nothing was broken that he could tell.

Demo pushed his friend off him and looked up for the first time since arriving at the base of the hill. “Solly?”

“Yes!” Soldier had landed on his back and he twisted to look up. “Oh.”

They were surrounded by what Demo could only label as a cult. They all wore the same robes and a strange mask of no creature he knew. They were arranged in a roughly circular position around a flat, bloodstained slab of rock. There was a white goat tied to a tree by the rock.

One of them, the leader he guessed, gestured at them and the cult advanced. Demo fought back when they grabbed him, wrenching his limbs away and trying to get to his feet. He kicked one of them in the groin and he heard some distinctly french cursing. Despite his efforts there were a lot more of them than there were of him and his hands were seized and bound behind him with coarse rope. Two grabbed him and hauled him up to the stone where they pushed him to his knees. Soldier was pinned beside him, his nose bloodied and his lip split.

“Friends!” The leader spread his arms, the long sleeves of his white robe flowing gracefully down like angel wings. “We have been blessed with - did you just, did you just  _ spit _ on me?”

Demo looked over at Soldier who had indeed just spat blood onto the man’s robe. “Yes, hippy!” Soldier looked about ready to do it again too.

“Disgusting. Kill that one first.”

Soldier fought against the cultists as they dragged him forward. He headbutted one of them in the stomach and someone was foolish enough to let their hand fall near his mouth. Soldier latched on like a rabid beast. She screamed and yanked her maimed hand from his mouth. Somehow they managed to get the flailing American onto the rock and bent forward.

Demo fought when they drew a dagger but the cultists held him fast as he squirmed. One of them had a firm grasp in his hair and he felt strands tear out by the roots as he struggled. Demo cried out when they took the dagger and drew it across Soldier’s throat. Spurts of blood splashed onto the stone. They let him go and he slumped forward, lifeless.

“No!” Demo screamed. “Jane!”

One of his captors gasped above him and the hand loosened from his hair. Then- a sharp sound, the familiar shot of a revolver. Demo blinked away his tears. A cultist had drawn arms on his brethren, planting bullets accurately in chests and heads. The cult froze and then scattered, in a panic.

The cultist pulled back his hood and removed his mask to reveal yet another mask. Only Spy.

“Bonjour, Demo.”

“You couldn’t have done that before they killed Soldier?” There was a sudden, loud sound. “Soldier?”

“You can see me? But I am a ghost!” Soldier was standing beside his corpse, his hands still tied behind him.

Spy sighed. “Soldier, you’re not a ghost.”

“No, I am a ghost! See, there is my corpse!”

Spy reached into Soldier’s jacket and withdrew The Dead Ringer. “You’re not dead!”

“Oh.” Soldier said. “Can you untie me then? My nose is itchy.”

As Spy worked on the knots around Soldier’s wrists Demo asked: “What the hell are ya doin’ here?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was on a contract from The Administrator.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d go in for the cult stuff.” Demo didn’t ask anything else. The Administrator had had him doing some weirder things.

Spy looked offended at the suggestion. “Of course not.”

Spy helped Demo with his bindings and then discarded his robe onto the ground. Demo wasn’t surprised to see him wearing his usual suit underneath.

Spy brushed imaginary dirt off his lapels. “Alright, gentlemen. I propos- Mon dieu, Soldier what are you doing!”

Soldier had hoisted the Frenchman onto his shoulders and Spy was clinging to him desperately to avoid falling off. “Spy has saved our lives! We must buy him ice cream as thanks! It is the true American way!”

“You do not have to- Soldier!” Spy screamed as Soldier went darting off into the forest.

Demo laughed and followed behind. But first he rescued the goat. Hey, if Medic could have forty doves he could have one goat.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya got any good names for Demo's new goat?


End file.
